Healing Touch
by soldiersgirl23
Summary: Hermione is severly injured in a battle and hid while she recouperates. Who else but the recently turned Draco Malfoy is her nurse? Can she learn to trust him or will she hold on to the past? Pre HBP, OOC.
1. an Injury

**disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, settings, etc. in this story. If I did, I would be rich, but the pile of money instead goes to Ms. J.K. Rowling, genius extrodonaire**

It was a bitterly cold day. Ice clung to the windows of the isolated cabin in the mountains of France. Hermione Granger sat staring out at the bleak gray skies wishing she were still in England. Still with those she loved. Her thoughts went to Harry Potter, her best friend, and Ronald Weasley, the man she loved. How she longed to be with them, but they were so far away, fighting a war, while she was in hiding, recuperating from wounds she had received in a battle not long ago.

"Still moping Granger?" came a cultured voice from behind her. Hermione did not turn to face the man standing behind her, knowing that his ice blue eyes would be looking at her with far too much pity for her liking.

"If you continue to dwell on these things you will never heal properly Hermione" Draco Malfoy said gently.

"What do you want me to do Malfoy?" Hermione snapped, turning to face him. "Pretend like I am happy to be here with you? That is something that is never going to happen. It doesn't what you do. To me you will always be that horrible boy from school who took every opportunity to make my life miserable. Do you really expect me to trust you?"

Draco winced.

"I know that there is nothing that I can do to change the things that I have done to you and those you love, but whether you choose to see it or not, I am trying to make amends here. I too would rather be on the front lines, but my assignment is to tend to you until you are well enough to return. Your stubbornness is not making things easy on either of us. The longer you resist my help, the longer it will be until either of us can return and be of any use."

Hermione swung her eyes back to the window. She knew that he was right, but how could Dumbledore assign one of the few people she truly loathed to assist her recovery? What in Merlin's name had he been thinking?

Seeing that Hermione wasn't going to make things easy on him, Draco decided to leave her to her thoughts for the time being. As he exited the room, he thought back to the horrible things he had done. If the shoe were on the other foot, would he have forgiven her? He would like to believe that he would have.

Draco knew that she found it hard to believe that he had turned away from everything he had held to be true. She did not know of the things he had been taught since birth to believe. She did not know how hard it had been to continue to believe those things after he met her.

Thinking back to the first day of Hogwarts, while they had nervously been awaiting the Sorting Ceremony, he recalled the first time he had ever seen her. Still smarting from having the famous Harry Potter publicly reject his friendship, he had filled with rage. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he had seen an angel before him. Big, chocolate brown eyes, full of well-disguised fear met his. He knew that look well. He had longed to talk to her, but before he had the chance to move in her direction, Professor McGonogal had declared that it was time for the ceremony to begin.

After the excitement of the ceremony was over, he discovered that she was muggle-born, and a lifetime of propaganda took its toll. Filled with disgust at himself for being so interested in a mudblood, he tried to forget her. When his fallen angel became friends with the boy wonder, he turned his anger at himself out on them.

Over the next several years, he tried to forget the vulnerability he had seen in her eyes that night. Those eyes haunted his sleep. By the time he realized how much he truly wanted to see those eyes look on him with kindness, they were filled with hatred. Far too much time had passed, and he had inflicted too much damage upon the golden trio for that to be possible.

Instead, he decided to examine himself and the things he had always believed. Eventually realizing that his father was no more right about the superiority of the purebloods then he himself had been in torturing Hermione for his own flaws, he defected. The only one who truly believed that his change of heart was real was Albus Dumbledore, the man he had been taught to despise his whole life.

Only Draco and Dumbledore knew what the elder wizard's intentions had been when he had laid out this assignment for him. Knowing that contention in the ranks could only lead to defeat, He had made the decision to send Draco along as Hermione's caretaker in hopes that a friendship would grow. Draco secretly hoped for more than that.

"Whatever it takes, I will have to show her that I will not hurt her. Somehow, I have to make up for the damage that I have done to her,"He muttered to himself. He would just have to find some way to prove that he had no desire to harm her. "Quite the opposite actually…"


	2. the accident and some shocking news

Feeling weak, Hermione moved to return to bed. She had taken only two steps before her legs gave way. Hermione gritted her teeth in pain. The stabbing pain in her side would not subside. She steeled herself against the hurt, determined to make it to the bed without the help of Draco.

She thought back to the night of the battle. The Order of the Phoenix had found the Death Eaters attacking the home of one of their own, Neville Longbottom. It was their way to attack them one by one, and flee when the Order arrived. In the ensuing battle, Ron had been hit by the Crucio curse. Hearing his cries of pain, Hermione had turned away from the witch who had been attacking her, only to feel a blinding pain strike her back.

When she had awoken, she was lying in a hospital bed at St. Mungo's. She opened her eyes to see Ron and Harry dozing in chairs beside her bed.

"Good morning," she had whispered, only to see both boys startle awake.

"Hermione," Ron cried, leaping to her side. "Hermione my love, I am so sorry I wasn't able to protect you." He began to sob.

"I'm fine Ron," She replied. "I'll rest up and join you guys soon." Sadness washed over Harry's face.

"Not soon Hermione. Bellatrix Lestrange hit you with an unforgivable curse. You've been paralyzed from the waist down. Dumbledore is working with Snape now, trying to concoct a potion to revive the nerves that she injured within your spinal cord. Dumbledore feels that it would be best if you went underground while you recuperate. The Death Eaters know that you have been seriously wounded, and would not hesitate to take advantage and kill you. You are far too vital to this effort, and to us, to allow anything to happen to you."

"Who is going with me, since I am unable to walk?" Hermione inquired bluntly. There was no point in dwelling on what had happened, she just needed to know the plan of action, and she would determine what to do from there.

"Draco Malfoy," said a strong voice. Albus Dumbledore walked in and smiled at Hermione. "Just like you to go straight to the questions Hermione, even when injured."

"Malfoy? You want to entrust Hermione to Malfoy?" sputtered Ron. "With all due respect sir, don't you feel that it would be better if-"

"No Ronald, you are much needed here. Draco has the necessary skills at potion making as well as medi-witch training. He is also well versed in the dark arts, and knows how to deflect many of their curses. He will be able to care for her aptly."

"Professor, what if I don't want Malfoy to accompany me?" Hermione asked desperately. She could handle being sent away to heal; she could not however handle being sent into hiding with Malfoy.

"I'm afraid you don't have much choice in the matter Miss Granger," Dumbledore replied. "You will be transported by muggles tomorrow, as your condition renders portkeys and apparition quite impossible"

They were able to concoct the healing potion after several weeks, but she had been warned that it would be a long and painful recovery, as her limbs had atrophied from disuse.

This is how Hermione found herself on the floor. She had overextended herself today. Oh, how she wished that it had been Ron that had been sent with her to heal. Forcing herself back onto her feet, she steadied herself. Keeping one hand on the chair, she urged one foot to move in front of the other and fell again, the chair toppling and striking her temple.

Hearing the commotion, Draco rushed into the room to find Hermione unconscious on the floor. He slid his arms underneath her and carried her to the bed. He began to check her vitals, knowing that she had indeed pushed herself too far that day.

"Why won't you let me care for you Hermione?" He whispered emotionally, tears cascading down his cheeks. "If you will not even ask me for help, how will you ever learn to love me?"


	3. soup, a deal, and a question

Several hours later, Hermione awoke to discover Draco blissfully sleeping in the very chair that had knocked her unconscious. Feeling groggy, she attempted to pull the blankets back, but was unable to gather the strength. A small moan escaped her lips.

Draco awoke with a start. Seeing her parched lips he immediately fetched a glass of water.

"Thank you," Hermione muttered after he had held the glass to her lips for her to drink. She despised being so reliant upon Draco.

"Hermione, I have a proposal for you," Draco began. Hermione nodded reluctantly, encouraging him to continue. "Let's put aside our differences for now. I am fully aware that you do not trust me, but as you've shown today, you really have no choice but to accept my help if you ever hope to recover and go back to the front lines."

Hermione nodded, feeling conflicted. A part of her saw the logic in this. He was right. The more she refused his assistance, the worse she became.

"Fine," she replied.

"Good," began Draco. "Now that we've settled that, would you like something to eat? I hardly think you could handle anything solid at this point, but we do have some rather tasty soup I think you might enjoy."

"Yes, thank you," Hermione responded. She watched as Draco went to fetch her cup of soup. _Have I been unfair to him?_ She wondered. It was true that he had made her life miserable at every opportunity during their school years, but ever since he had appeared in Dumbledore's office months before, he had not said a word against anybody. She had wondered if he had been up to something, and while he had been quite virtuous since his return, she still had her misgivings. _A leopard cannot change his spots, no matter how hard he tries_, Hermione thought.

_You've been proven wrong before_ her conscience told her. _You couldn't stand Ronald until he and Harry rescued you from that troll first year. _

Ron. Now there was a person she longed to see. She and Ron had been close friends ever since their battle with the mountain troll, and that friendship had slowly involved into a deep love during their seventh year. They had talked of their future and had begun making plans for marriage and a family when the war openly began. All of their plans for the future put on hold; they had both rushed to join Harry and the other members of the Order to stop Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It was only a few months after that when Hermione had become injured.

She felt so lost without Harry and Ron at her side. They had been there for every major event in her life since she began attending Hogwarts. It seemed every year something happened. The other students got to engage in frivolous pursuits, enjoying their youth, while the Golden Trio had to be ever on guard. Their youth had been left long before. Well, maybe not Ron's. That was something that Hermione loved so dearly about the youngest Weasley male. No matter how dark the situation seemed, trust Ron to make them laugh.

"Here's your soup," said Draco as he re-entered her room. Seeing the far away look in her eyes, he could only assume that she was thinking about his distant cousin, Weasley.

He had always mocked Weasley, but the truth was he was envious of him. While Draco had status, and anything money could buy, he had never had love. His father had been proud of him until his rejection of all he had been taught. His mother, while distant, was always kind to him. The Weasley home, affectionately called the Burrow, while meager in comparison to Malfoy Manor, was a home filled with happiness. What they lacked in material possessions was more than made up for with love.

Hermione began spooning the warm liquid into her mouth. Draco had been correct. It was delicious.

"So Malfoy," she started, "I don't believe that I have ever heard your version for leaving your father's side to fight against the death eaters. I'm curious, what cased your sudden reversal of beliefs?"

Draco sighed. He knew the day would come when she would ask. The only question that remained was exactly how much of his story he should tell her.


	4. the secret life of Lucius

**Chapter 4: the secret life of Lucius**

"Exactly how much do you know about my family Hermione?" Draco inquired.

"Very little actually, I know that you are an only child, and that your family is fanatical about maintaining bloodlines, and that they are staunch supporters of you-know-who. I know a little about your family tree, only what I have seen on the Blacks family tree."

"Did you know my father's marriage was arranged?" Draco asked quietly.

"No, I didn't" responded Hermione, her brows drawn together in question.

"Well it was. This is something that I only discovered after I left Hogwarts. I had displeased my mother somehow and was required to clean out the attic without magic," Draco shuddered at the memory. "She herself didn't know what lay in the trunks I was cleaning out. I found all kinds of things from my father's youth. There were mostly pictures, and progress notes from his professors. I also found a sheaf of letters." Draco looked down, uncertain if he wanted to reveal the intimate details of his father's life.

"As it turns out, my father was in love with a muggle" He blurted. "When my Grandfather discovered this, he went into a rage, and murdered her whole family."

Hermione gasped in shock. She wasn't sure what she had expected to hear, but surely this wasn't it.

"My father was immediately betrothed to my mother, and he was too brokenhearted to do anything but go through with it. His heart hardened so much that he began to believe his father's lies about the muggles. All emotion was gone from him. When I confronted him with what I had discovered, he couldn't deny it. All he could say was that it was wrong for the muggles and wizards to intermix. It puts too many lives in danger, and that muggles were obviously inferior. If they weren't, then why couldn't they stand up before the power of a wizard? He eventually blamed her for what had befallen her family, and him."

"It was all very confusing to me, and then one day I realized, that my father was wrong. He had convinced himself that his love for the muggle was nothing but weakness and stupidity. He knew that if it were ever discovered that he had loved the woman, my mother would be destroyed. For years, he spewed his anger at muggles, when in fact he was really angry with himself for failing to protect her. He had allowed himself to be full of hate, and taught me to hate just as much."

"So, you discovered that your father was full of hate and ran the other way?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "That hardly sounds enough to turn you away from the path that you had been treading.

"Let's just say that his hate had cost me something very dear to my heart Hermione. If my father hadn't filled my head with so many lies, I would never have been the person that I was. I realized all of the things that I would have had, that I could have been, if I did not grow up with that kind of anger in my life. His life isn't something I want for myself. Having friends who only want you for your money, a loveless marriage, and servitude to an utter madman, that's his life, not mine. You know Who isn't great, just stark raving mad and genocidal. When it came out that he was a half blood, the whole thing made me realize what a lie we had all been living."

"I don't want any children that I may have living the kind of life that I did. I don't want them growing up losing what they want the most, for some false ideals," Draco sighed. He was afraid that he had said too much, and he could tell by the look on Hermione's face that she wasn't entirely satisfied with his answers.

"So what was it that you lost, Malfoy?" Hermione asked her brown eyes boring into his blue.

"Not anything that I am prepared to reveal at this point my dear. Besides, I do believe that is enough story time for one day. You do need your rest, and I believe that I will leave you to it." Draco stood and prepared to leave.

"Draco?" He paused and turned to look at her.

"If your change of beliefs is real, I am grateful for it," she whispered, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Thank you Hermione, good night."


	5. physical therapy

Curiosity was driving Hermione insane. Never one to leave a mystery unsolved, she pondered over everything that he had said while she lie back in bed, her head snuggled into her pillow. It was truly an interesting thing to think about. Lucius Malfoy had been in love with a muggle? When? How had it happened?

Her meetings with the elder Malfoy had always been few and thankfully far between, yes Hermione had always got the impression that he had a heart of ice. Someone like that surely could know nothing of love. But apparently he had at one point. So much so, that losing her had filled him with an all-consuming hatred of everything muggle, including their blood running in the veins of a witch.

She couldn't understand how it would affect Draco so much. Surely that would have just disgusted him, finding out that the father he had looked up to so much had done what he had always told his son was wrong and against nature. There just had to be more to the story.

Draco was at that very moment preparing for bed himself. He had never intended to tell Hermione his story. He had left out the worst of it though. When his grandfather had discovered the love affair of this muggle and his pureblood son, he had gone about separating them so effectively that it completely changed his son.

Draco wondered what his life would have been like if his grandfather had allowed the match to take place. He fell into a deep sleep, filled with dreams of what his life would have been like. Attending Hogwarts as a muggle-born, free to pursue a relationship with Hermione. It was a pleasant dream.

Hermione awoke to see sunlight filtering in through the curtains on the window. She wiggled her toes, delighting in the feel of moving them again.

"Good Morning Hermione!" Draco sang as he entered through the door. "Would you like your pumpkin juice first, or your skele-gro?"

"Might as well get the skele-gro out of the way. I wish that I was able to take a full dose instead of little ones every day," she muttered.

"Now Hermione," Draco said very patiently, "You and I both know that full doses are only for broken or lost bones. You have to take the smaller doses so that you'll regain your bone density. If you take a full dose you'll have too many side effects."

Hermione gulped down the small container of the medication, and quickly swigged down her pumpkin juice trying to get the acrid taste out of her mouth. If she could ever have the chance to face Lestrange again, she was not going to hold back.

"There's a girl," Draco said teasingly. "Now, let's get down to your physical therapy." His blue eyes danced. This was his favorite part of the day. He could touch her and she couldn't do anything but comply if she ever wanted to get back to the front lines. Placing her foot in his lap as he sat on the end of the bed, he began to vigorously massage her toes and feet.

"How does that feel today?" He inquired, feeling the soft skin under his fingertips.

"It doesn't feel like I'm being stabbed by a thousand needles anymore, so I suppose that it's a good sign."

"That's very good Hermione. It means that your circulation is improving," He replied as he continued to minister to her feet. As he moved up to her ankles and calves, he noticed that she sucked in her breath. "Enjoy that do we?" He asked her, the trademark Malfoy smirk beginning to form.

"Absolutely not," she retorted. Never in a million years would she admit to him that while she detested him as a person, she was slowly beginning to look forward to her daily physical therapy. She felt her breath catch in her throat as Draco's fingers found their way to a particularly sensitive spot just under her ankle.

"Seems to me that you are," he drawled. How he longed to be able to touch her without the guise of caring for her injuries. Hermione flushed, at a loss for words. He knew that she would never openly admit to enjoying his daily ministrations. Despite the agreement that they had met yesterday, he knew that it would take a lot for her to see him as anything other than "the amazing bouncing ferret." He would never live that one down.

"What's that look for Malfoy?" Hermione inquired, seeing his grimace. "My legs don't look that bad do they?"

"Actually Hermione, your legs are rather nice. I was thinking about that dreadful time that the fake Moody decided to turn me into a ferret," he replied, not quite meeting her eyes. Hermione burst into laughter.

"And to think, I had nearly forgotten that! That was one of the highlights of that year you know," she snickered.

"Well, I'm glad that you found that amusing Granger. I'll have you know that it took nearly a week for that horrid smell to stop emanating from my hair," He sniffed, making Hermione laugh harder.

"You know good and well that you deserved it for being such an insufferable little git," laughed Hermione as tears began to stream from her eyes.

"I deserved that did I?" said Draco, narrowing his eyes. Hermione only nodded her hair and laughed harder.

"I didn't know that ferrets could bounce that high!" she said, nearly choking on her laughter at this point.

"I don't take well to being mocked Granger," said Draco, his ice blue eyes flashing fire at her. "I believe that you shall have to be punished." Fear began to fill Hermione as her laughter abruptly stopped. Draco reached over to her and…began tickling her ribcage relentlessly.

"Do you still think I deserved it?" He demanded, his fingers prodding her side.

"Yes!" Screamed Hermione, as she tried to scoot away from his fingers. This was a horrible position to be in when one's legs weren't reliable.

"And now?" He asked several moments later, digging his fingers in a little bit more. He was enjoying torturing the helpless Hermione.

"No! You win!" she laughed. Draco laughed too, collapsing on top of her at this point from laughter. Hermione looked up and saw that his face was only inches from her own.

"I'm glad that you don't smell like a ferret anymore Malfoy." She giggled.

"As am I my dear," he whispered, as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.


	6. an unexpected visit

Chapter 6

A/N: Don't worry guys, Draco hasn't gone soft on us, (well, maybe as far as Hermione is concerned. Draco is like every bad boy I ever dated. They lure you in by being sweet and when you're hooked, BAM! Bad boy is back again. I'm basing this off of PLENTY of personal experience…hehe).

Ink Splash: Your wand question is explained. Let me know if you see any discrepancies, and I will find a neat way to explain it.

Also, I know some of you were a little unsure about the "my dear", but let's face it, Draco is cultured. If he really wants to turn on the charm, he can. On with the story.

Hermione's eyes snapped open as Draco pressed his lips to hers.

"What in the bloody hell was that?" She demanded when Draco pulled away.

"What was what?" He asked innocently. "I thought it would improve your circulation. Got your heart pumping didn't it?"

"Ooooh! So help me, if I could get out of this bed and get my wand, I would hex you so hard your children would feel it!" Hermione fumed. Draco only laughed. Confiscating her wand was one of his better ideas. If she had possession of it, she would curse him every time he tried to put her through P/T.

At that very moment, a soft POP sounded throughout the room.

Hermione looked up to see Ron and Harry standing at the edge of the bed, questioning looks on their faces.

"What in bloody hell are you doing on Mione's bed Malfoy?" Demanded Ron, his ears turning crimson. Draco stood and turned to face him.

"Physical Therapy Weasel-bee. What does it look like I'm doing?" taunted Draco, daring Ron to question him.

"Still seems to me that you don't quite belong in the equation Malfoy," sneered Harry as he surveyed Hermione's pale face. "Perhaps you should just leave us to visit Hermione in peace."

Draco fumed, but stood, casting malicious glares in boy's direction and then he exited the room. Ron and Harry both turned back to Hermione.

"So I see you haven't cursed him yet Hermione. I applaud your patience," laughed Harry, his eyes twinkling.

"Only because he confiscated my wand to prevent me from hexing him. Safety precautions must be taken. I'm afraid that my temper would override my logic and I would have to see how many foul things I could transfigure him into, in say, sixty seconds."

"That is a game that I think I would love to try my hand at," Ron laughed as he leaned in to kiss Hermione.

"So how is your recovery coming Mione?" Inquired Harry.

"Slowly," muttered Hermione. "My desire to rid myself of Malfoy continues to supersede my logic. I've pushed myself too far and have had a few setbacks."

"Something took precedence over logic?" asked a shocked Ron as he ran to the windows to glance outside. "The four horsemen of the Apocalypse haven't arrived yet, so I guess this isn't officially the end of the world." Hermione giggled as Ron settled back in beside her.

"So what news do you have?" Hermione questioned.

"Well," began Harry, "Neville has made a full recovery. They performed the Crucatious curse until he was within an inch of his sanity, but fortunately, St. Mungo's has made great strides in Mental Health since his parents fell victim to the death eaters."

"Have there been many more attacks?"

"Oddly no. The quiet is disturbing. Dumbledore believes that they are regrouping for a massive strike, but we just can't figure out where. It was he that suggested we come visit you, take advantage of the calm before the storm so to speak."

"Would you mind giving us a moment alone Harry?" asked Ron. Harry smiled at them both and left the room quietly.

"So how are you feeling my love?" he inquired sweetly, gently running his fingers through her hair, marveling out its softness.

"I could be better Ron, but in the same token I could be worse," Hermione replied. "Malfoy is a pain, but at least he has yet to call me any foul names."

"I still don't see why you have to suffer that git when you should be healing. He's more likely to poison you than he is to heal you," Ron replied sarcastically, his face twisted into a grimace.

"Actually Ron, my present confinement to this bed is entirely my fault," she admitted. "If I had swallowed my pride and accepted his assistance, I would be much farther along than I am now. He is a very talented healer, to give the devil his due."

"Did I just hear you defend Malfoy? Now I know that you aren't well." Ron sputtered

"I wasn't defending Malfoy!" Hermione insisted.

"Well it sure sounded like you were to me."

_Oh heavens, _thought a horrified Hermione. _He's right! _


	7. a discussion between enemies

Harry eyed Draco as he entered the room.

"So, Malfoy, how is Hermione coming along?" He asked.

"She'd be much farther along if she would just do as she is told," Draco replied. "I applaud her independence, but it's really hindering her recovery."

"Well," Harry drawled, "I'm sure that putting your faith in somebody who would have used an opportunity like this to do her serious harm in the past must be awfully difficult. I myself find it hard to believe that you really have her best interests at heart and I'm not the patient."

"I would never have seriously harmed her then or now Potter," spat Draco as he flushed with anger. "As a matter of fact, I've done my best to steer her away from harm for many years now."

"Really?" snarled Harry, his eyes narrowing. "Do you mean like the time you tried to turn us in to Professor Umbridge?"

"It seems you have forgotten the Quidditch world cup," seethed Draco, his hands clenching at his sides.

"When you were taunting us?" scoffed Harry.

"More like warning you to hide her farther in the forest so that the Death Eaters wouldn't find her."

Harry looked away. Draco was right. He hadn't acted particularly concerned about her at the time, and Harry himself had always believed that Draco had been laughing at them and taking the opportunity to fling more insults their way.

"Whatever," Harry looked back at Draco. "But let me warn you now, should harm fall upon one strand of her hair, I will track you to the ends of the earth to make sure that you pay for it. The only reason that I'm tolerating you caring for Hermione is that Dumbledore has confidence in you, misplaced though it may be."

"I assure you, my only interest here is completing my mission and returning to the front lines. Anytime that you would like to trade positions, let me know and I will pack my bags and hand you the key to the medicine chest," Draco bluffed, hoping that the wizard in front of him wouldn't see how much he wanted to be here with Hermione. Surrounded by her friends, he would never have the chance to prove himself to her, to gain her trust, and her love.

"If I thought Dumbledore would let me get away with it, I would take you up on that Malfoy. So, what is the course of treatment here?" Harry inquired, calming down.

"Well, her injury and prolonged bed rest have atrophied her legs," Draco began.

"I'm well aware of that," Harry interrupted.

"As I was saying," Draco continued, "her legs have atrophied, causing loss of both bone density and muscle. She has to receive small doses of Skele-gro to help regain some of the bone density, but only intense physical therapy and exercise will regain the muscle tone she needs to be able to walk properly."

"Doesn't sound all that difficult to me," Harry said.

"Of course it doesn't sound difficult in theory," said Draco scornfully, "The biggest problem is that Granger insists on doing everything herself, causing her to backtrack. Every relapse she has does more damage to her body. If she would slow down for a moment and not be so bloody stubborn, she would be much farther along than she is now."

"And how exactly do you plan on ridding her of her stubborn streak," laughed Harry. "Neither Ron nor I have managed to do a thing in seven years of friendship, let alone seven years of disgust and loathing."

"She has no choice," retorted Malfoy, not liking to be laughed at. "She can be as stubborn as she likes, in a wheelchair, or she can be cooperative and walking. She's aware of her options, all I can do is wait for her to decide which one she's going to take."


	8. a kiss and a conflict

Hermione sighed as she watched her friend's apperate back to the Order's Headquarters. Their visit was far too short, considering the long day that she had ahead of her now. Gazing longingly out the window, she thought of all of the wonderful things she could be doing today.

"Everything okay Granger?" inquired Draco from his chair in the corner of the room.

"Yes, everything is fine. I guess I'm just beginning to suffer from Cabin Fever. Being cooped up in this little shack isn't exactly stimulating for me you know. What I wouldn't give for a good old muggle telly right about now."

"Perhaps a story might cheer you up?" Draco suggested.

"That sounds good," replied Hermione. "Why don't you tell me some more about what it was like growing up in Malfoy Manor?"

"What is there to tell? My Father was a bully, who taught me to be a bully, and my mother was a snob. I feel guilty admitting this, but I used to wonder if she didn't have to keep her nose up like that because of some wonky eye problem" Draco laughed. Hermione laughed at him.

"Truthfully," he continued, "it was lonely. My father would only approve of pureblood playmates from families that he approved of. That's how I came to be saddled with Crabbe and Goyle for so long. Whenever our fathers would get together to rehash the 'good old days' I would be left entertaining these dimwits for hours. Purity of blood isn't exactly a guarantee of intellect."

"Caught that did you?" Hermione giggled. Truthfully, she had always wondered how they dressed themselves in the morning without somebody directing them.

"As a matter of fact, I caught that right away, thank you very much. How do you think I got them to do what I wanted them to? When my mother would tell me I wasn't allowed to have something like sweets, I would have Crabbe and Goyle fetch some for me. I learned to boss people around by dealing with those two." Draco eyes glazed over for a moment, as if lost in thought.

"What about you Granger, what was life like raised by muggles?" he inquired.

"Well, very different from yours I suppose. I went to a normal muggle primary school, and had normal muggle friends. People always ask you "what do you want to be when you grow up" expecting a ten year old to have their life goals mapped out already. I always said a teacher, because I knew that I would be allowed to read all day without anybody saying anything about it. When I got my letter from Hogwarts and we finally understood what it was, my parents were very proud of me, even if they still weren't entirely sure what they were proud of me for. It was decided that they would let me spend a year at Hogwarts, and if I didn't want to be there, or they felt that it was leading nowhere, they would allow me to resume my schooling in the muggle world."

"What about you, were you apprehensive about attending Hogwarts at all?" Draco prodded, thinking about the fear he had glimpsed in her eyes that first day.

"If you must know the truth, I was terrified. As soon as we got my books I dove right in there. I was so sure that everyone who had been raised in the wizarding world would know everything about magic, and I just didn't want to be left behind. I have an astounding fear of failure, and so I feel driven to succeed. Even if it did win me the title of "insufferable know it all" it was worth it."

"You have a fear of failure?" laughed Draco facetiously; "You would never have known it by your Bogart on the obstacle course third year."

"You know, I don't think I have ever managed to live that down," blushed Hermione, still embarrassed that her worst fear was revealed to be failing a test.

"Well don't we make a fine couple," Draco smiled as he moved to sit on the edge of her bed, "the bouncing ferret and the know it all". He took her hand in his as he looked into her eyes.

"I think it's a fine couple indeed."

Hermione stared into his eyes, getting lost in them. She was intrigued by the silver specks mingling with the blue of his eyes. She had never noticed that before, or the kindness that she saw in those eyes now. His white blonde hair fell into his eyes just a little bit, but he didn't brush the wayward strands away. Beautifully pale skin, like fresh milk, and the softest looking mouth, why hadn't she noticed that before? She had seen that mouth sneer at her and curse at her, but she wasn't accustomed to the gentle smile that played on his face at that moment. She closed her eyes confused by his tenderness and immediately she felt his lips on hers.

His kiss was gentle and sweet, and perhaps the most puzzling of all, it was hesitant. She knew that he was waiting for some sort of signal from her as to whether or not she would allow him to continue. Hermione responded to his silent questions by sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

Almost immediately, she began to argue with herself. _What are you doing? You can't kiss him! He's a Malfoy first of all, the very boy who made your life miserable for so many years. Yes, but he's changed. He's sweeter somehow; more gentle, more like a human being and less like a toad than he was in school. But what about Ron? Don't you love Ron? More than anything in the world. My heart belongs to Ron and it always will, I need to stop this…I have to stop this…. come on Hermione, just pull away!_

But Hermione's body wouldn't respond to her commands, only to the touch of the Blonde haired man before her now. The more she argued with herself the more she realized that she couldn't resist him, not when he was laying on the charm as thickly as he was. And if she were truly honest with herself, Hermione would have admitted to herself that she didn't want to resist him.


	9. confessions

Draco's mind whirled as he felt Hermione's arms tighten around his neck. _Is she actually kissing me back?_ He wondered joyously. He continued to kiss her passionately, pouring his years of unrequited feeling into the connection, savoring the feel of her soft lips against his.

Finally gaining control over herself, Hermione broke away, feeling the disappointment washing over Draco. Sighing loudly, his body sagged until he was lying on top of Hermione. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," he whispered to her.

"Why did you do that Draco?" she inquired, "And tell me the truth."

"Are you sure that you want to know the truth?" he replied. She nodded her head, her eyes boring into his.

"Because even though I know you'll never feel the same about me as I do about you, sometimes I can't help myself from getting my hopes up." Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion.

"What do you mean the way you feel about me?"

Draco pulled himself into a sitting position and stared out the window blankly, composing his thoughts.

"Because regardless of how I was raised, and how I acted, and everything that I thought was true for so long, I've always been in love with you Hermione. Since our very first day at Hogwarts, when I saw you standing there looking so scared, yet so brave at the same time. Something in your eyes touched me and haunted me for years, and I've never been able to forget that."

"So…. you're claiming that for seven years, you tortured me and did everything you could to make my life miserable, you were secretly in love with me?"Hermione scoffed.

"I don't expect you to believe me, but you asked for the truth. I've done enough lying in my lifetime; I hardly think that adding to that pile of lies is going to do me any good here."

Hermione sat back in shock. Draco Malfoy, the proverbial thorn in her side, was in love with her? He was bloody mad!

"So you decided that you were just going to kiss me and that I would forget all of that? What did you expect would happen Malfoy? That I was going to smile at you and say, that everything was forgiven, and oh, drakie darling, I love you too! Welcome to the real world. In the real world, even if I hadn't hated your guts for seven years, I'm still in love with Ron! Not to mention what Ron and Harry would do to you if they found out your little secret."

"Yeah, well your 'love' for Weasel-bee didn't keep you from kissing me back now did it?" demanded Draco, his eyes flashing. He didn't know what to expect from her when he revealed his secret, but this wasn't it at all. Foolishly enough, he had rather fancied the idea that she would indeed sigh and proclaim her love for him as well.

Hermione looked away from him, tears welling up in her eyes.

"It was a mistake Malfoy," she whispered.

"You don't know that!" Draco retorted, "How can you know that you'll never be able to love me if you don't get to know the real me, and give me a shot?"

"I will repeat myself for you," she snapped back angrily, "I am TAKEN!"

"Look Hermione," Draco began calmly, trying desperately to keep his injured pride out of his voice, "All I am asking is that you get to know the real me before you reject me. I'm not asking you to elope with me, I'm not asking you to leave Weasel-Bee and run away to Paraguay with me, all I am asking is that you allow me the time that we're forced together to prove that even if you can't love me, you don't have to hate me."

Hermione exhaled slowly. Why did his request have to be so damn logical? She couldn't turn it down and still be able to tell herself that she believed people could change. If she didn't, she'd be a hypocrite for defending Snape for so many years.

"Fine," Hermione growled. "But so help me, if you push in anyway, if you so much as breathe a word of this to anybody, there isn't enough magic in the world to heal what I will do to you. If Ron ever found out-"

"Who says Weasley has to know?" Draco replied relieved to know that at least his actions hadn't totally screwed any chance he had here. "I think that I am going to go indulge myself in a cold shower. I will see you bright and early for Physical Therapy."

"Draco, wait," Hermione began as he looked at her. "Look, it isn't that I don't find you attractive, because I do. It's just…I'm finding it a little difficult at times to match up the old Draco with the new Draco. I'm horrible about holding grudges…I'll probably despise Professor Trelawney for the rest of my life, even if she did make accurate prophesies six times a day for the next fifty years. Ron and I have such history together, and it would break his heart. I barely know who you are now. Let's try to be friends okay? I feel like I have to get to know you all over again."

Draco nodded his head at her.

"Friends it is then," he replied, but in his heart, he knew he wasn't going to settle for only friends.


	10. a star is born

**A/N: Steelo: Thank you so much for being my most faithful reviewer. I do not know what I would do without you. I'm afraid that your pleas for Ron to emerge unhurt cannot be answered. As much as I hate to hurt the guy, it is rather pivitol to the story development. Unfortunately, I don't want to resort to having him find love immediately on a rebound either because if he loves Hermione as much as I say he does, he's gonna need some healing time, and as you soon will see, he doesn't give up that easily. But never fear, he will recover eventually.**

Several weeks had passed, and Draco had been true to his word. Rather than pressing his luck by courting Hermione, he chose instead to befriend her. They had spent many comfortable afternoons in front of the fireplace discussing novels. Their heated discussions over house elf rights had Hermione thinking that Draco at least was capable of presenting a compelling argument, even if he didn't have any clue what he was really talking about.

There had been no more visits from Ron and Harry. The unsettling silence continued, luring many into a sense of false security. Never the one to be caught off guard, or to lower his guard at a hint of peace, Dumbledore had to Order in a flurry, sending some on missions to garner more allies as well as sending his spies anywhere he could attempting to discover the plot of You-know-who.

Unfortunately, this meant that Ron and Harry had little time to owl Hermione either. She had received but one brief letter in the time they had been separated.

_My dearest Hermione,_

_I hope all is well with you, and that your recovery is coming swiftly. I cannot say that I am unhappy with your injury now, as it keeps you out of the upcoming battle and out of harms way. I don't believe that I could bear seeing you fall again. _

_Dumbledore is keeping us quite busy. He has again sent Hagrid to speak with the giants, only this time he has allowed us to accompany him. I don't know how long I will be gone, but I do hope you know that I carry your love with me every day. It is what keeps me strong; it was keeps my feet moving one before the other when I am so exhausted that I can no longer stand. Know that our separation is brief, and that it is for good. _

_Look upon our star from time to time, and send your love with it, as the same star shines above me, I will feel your love, and it will strengthen me._

_Always,_

_Your Ron_

Hermione had read his letter over and over again, cleaving desperately to the hope that he would indeed return safe, and that his mission would be a successful one. She remembered all too well the injuries that Hagrid had sported upon his return.

Glancing out her window, Hermione quickly located _their_ star as her thoughts drifted back to that night in the astronomy tower so very long ago.

Hermione and Ron had fled to the Astronomy tower around midnight, hoping to get a few precious moments to themselves before the start of the war. Constantly surrounded by others, it was difficult to find time to just be alone.

"_Ron?" Hermione had asked him, as they lie on their backs staring up into the night sky. "Do you think that there is a world out there that knows no war?"_

"_I'm positive there is Hermione, and even if there isn't, let's make one," he whispered into her ear, inhaling the sweet aroma of lavender that hung in her hair. "Pick a star."_

_Hermione turned to look at him questioningly, before gazing back up at the sky._

"_That one," she said, pointing to a glowing star. _

"_Great choice 'Mione," he replied. "Now we just have to name it."_

"_How about **Imbellis**? It means, peaceful, unwarlike". Ron smiled in the darkness of the night._

"_That is perfect love. Imbellis will be our star, our hope, and our future. Let's say that Imbellis is a place where people live harmoniously."_

"_That's right," Hermione grinned, getting into the game. "Because there is no pureblood, no half blood, no muggleborn. No wizards or muggles. Just people."_

"_People who love each other. Of course they don't always get along, because then it would be boring."_

"_And we don't want a boring planet…" Hermoine laughed._

"_That's right. Quidditch is a national sport, revered by all as the greatest game ever to exist."_

"_And a place where intelligence is honored, and education is cherished. Know-it-all is a compliment."_

_Ron grinned even harder; seeing her get caught up in their make believe._

"_And Snape where's frilly pink Dress Robes and a hat decorated with fruit every day, surrounded by first year students, like a mother hen."_

_Hermione burst into uncontrollable giggles at this. The thought of their surly potions professor prancing around in pink robes was just too much for her. _

"_Whenever you get lonely Mione," Ron began, pulling her closer," I want you to look at that star and imagine us there together, in peace, laughing at Mother Hen Snape."_

"I miss you so much Ron," Hermione whispered to the star. "Come back soon, and be safe." She thought of Ron constantly, filled with guilt. She knew that while she hadn't intentionally allowed anything to happen between she and Draco, she still felt like she had betrayed Ron. It was so hard to be the one left behind when she had once been the one deep in the thick of it. For so long, she had held deep to the ideal that they truly were a Golden Trio, one unable to operate without the next. It was an idea fostered by the numerous adventures they had shared over the years. However, she was very disappointed, even though she would never admit it, to see that Harry and Ron were functioning just fine without her at their side. When did she transition from a soldier in Dumbledore's Army, to just another girl waiting at home, the proverbial yellow ribbon tied in her hair? It was lonely, and it was frustrating.

She was racked with more than the guilt of her unwitting betrayal of her love, but also for being holed up in recovery, when so many were out there on the front lines preparing for the final battle. She should have been there. She should be out there preparing too, not hiding away in relative safety. Her injury had even pulled Draco away from the fighting, where they were both so desperately needed. Guilt was not a feeling that Hermione handled well. She began to withdraw into herself. A fact that Draco had noticed.

Her physical therapy had continued every day without incident, and while Neither Draco or Hermione had mentioned the night that Draco had confessed his feelings towards her, she couldn't get it out of her mind. She had noticed now that she wasn't looking for faults, how easily he could make her smile, even if didn't reach her eyes. How much fun they had together during their heated debates over civil rights and theory. He was certainly a very close match for her intelligence.

They spent so much time together, even when they weren't debating or having long discussions about their respective childhoods, they could sit in companionable silence reading or watching the trees sway in the wind out of the window.

Draco was determined to make her laugh again. Watching her retire into herself was painful. Winter was releasing its grip on the land, and as the snow melted, flowers began blooming. Hermione was now able to walk around the shack by herself, even if only for short periods of time. She no longer fought his treatment, but accepted his help, knowing that the more stubborn she was, the longer it would take for her to get back to the front lines.

Suddenly, gazing at a beautiful yellow buttercup beginning to bloom at the edge of the forest he had the best idea. But he would have to start planning if he wanted it to happen before Hermione was well enough to leave. This, he was certain, would be the ticket to Hermione's heart that he had been searching so desperately for.

**A/N If you read and you liked, please review it. I am so not feeling the love here guys. If you don't like, tell me that too and let me know why, so we can find a way to adjust it. Constructive criticism is always welcome. I do realize that there is a slight shift in writing styles. I'm experimenting, just go with it.**


	11. the Prince and the Pauper

A/N I would like to take a moment to thank those who reviewed my story and reply to some of them. 

**Intcrimgrrl: Thank you so much for your vote of confidence. I was starting to wonder if nobody liked my story and that's why I wasn't getting any reviews.**

**High Low: Again, I am so sorry, but I can't do that. I have already mapped out this story, and it's just filling in the minor details that I am up to now. Ron will recover, and I'm glad that you liked their stargazing. That's something I actually stole from my own life, as my soon to be hubby and I did that just before he deployed. Every time he calls home he tells me to look at that star before I go to sleep and know that he's with me. Fluffy isn't he?**

**PirateNinjaMonkey: I really didn't know that my anonymous review thing was disabled, but it is all better now. Unfortunately, in my quest to show how much Hermione cares for Ron (crucial plot point) I may have made Ron and Hermione _too_ likeable together. I feel so bad, getting so many reviews from people wanting Ron and Hermione to stay together, but you read the summery people, this is eventually a Draco/Hermione, and it is too late to change that. Maybe one day I'll write you guys a nice sappy Ron/Hermione fic.**

**LilJuwan: Thank you!**

**AND OF COURSE:**

**To my ever-faithful Steelo, who kept me running when I wanted to chuck the story from lack of response, this chapter is dedicated to you**

**Ink Splash: Here is the nice long chappie you have been begging for.**

"Hermione?" Draco asked cautiously, approaching the young woman gazing out the window. She turned slightly to face him.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you would like to take a walk with me? The sun is out, and it's promising to be a beautiful day."

"I would love to!" she replied, pulling herself to standing, giving her body a moment to adjust to the position. She was tired of being cooped up in the shack, and the chance to walk outside; the feel of the sunshine on her face was just too tempting to turn down.

"Brilliant," he replied, quickly stepping forward to take her arm, giving her the support that she needed to make the short journey.

Draco guided Hermione out the door of the shack and they began to follow the edge of the river that flowed nearby. Listening to the birds chirping in the trees, a smile played upon her lips.

"It's so quiet out here, so peaceful," she sighed, enjoying the sounds of the water, as it made it's way downstream. Draco smiled at her, guiding her to an embankment near the water's edge.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped as she took in the scene before her eyes. Draco had managed to come out earlier, and beneath the shade of a beautiful willow lay a blanket and a wicker hamper. "A picnic!"

Draco continued to smile at her as he helped her ease into a sitting position.

"I hoped that you would like it. You just seemed to be getting a little restless, and I thought that you might want to take a break. You have been focusing so hard on your recovery that you allow yourself very little time to relax. It's not healthy for you."

"I know," she replied ruefully. "I just can't seem to help it. Every time I start to relax this tremendous feeling of guilt washes over me. I can hear my conscience nagging at me that I need to get better quickly and make it back to the front lines. It's just not fair for me to be here in this beautiful place while Ron and Harry are Merlin knows where."

"You can't feel guilty Hermione," he said softly. "You are injured. You need time to recover. Honestly, if it were Harry that were injured, how would you feel?"

"Do you mean besides panic? I don't know. I would probably be after him like a mother hen, demanding that he rest properly. Then again, I would probably be so deep in research on methods to help heal him that I probably wouldn't have time to nag at him to slow down."

"Brutally honest, even about yourself, aren't you?" Draco laughed. It was rare to see somebody admit his or her own faults, and he would be one of the last to do that. Except maybe to Hermione. It was different with her. She already knew his faults, and he was aware that if he didn't acknowledge these, Hermione might never believe him that his change of heart was definitely real and not something contrived.

"Well, it isn't like anybody is going to lie to me to spare my feelings," she laughed back. "Lying to yourself isn't any good, because you know that you are lying anyways."

"Good point," He replied reaching for the basket. "Would you care for some meat pies?" She nodded in agreement, her stomach rumbling loudly.

Draco laughed as he passed a plate laden with food in her direction. The two sat in the silence, listening to the sounds of nature as they ate their food slowly. After they had finished, Hermione's eyes started to droop, so Draco settled himself against a tree and allowed Hermione to lay her head on his lap, stretching out on her back.

"Would you like me to tell you another story?" Draco asked inquiringly.

"Oh yes please," she yawned back, now fighting to stay awake. Whenever Draco told her one of his "stories" he generally revealed so much about himself. It was a rare moment for the youngest Malfoy to drop his guard.

"Once upon a time," Draco began. "There was a handsome young prince. This handsome young prince had everything a handsome young prince could ask for. He had a large castle, many servants, plenty of money, and rich powerful friends. Then one day, the prince happened to come upon a servant girl playing. Intending to torture the girl, he sat watching her, waiting for the best moment to attack.

"Just as the prince was about to dash over, and ruin the toys she had been playing with and make her cry, he saw her parents come out to her side. The girl's father picked her up and swung her around, raining kisses upon her face as he whispered to her. The girl's mother wrapped her arms around both of them and they returned to their home.

"It was then that the prince felt his first pangs of a new emotion. Jealousy. Sure his parents gave him everything he ever asked for, but they never gave him love. For in this prince's kingdom, there were some things that were more important than love. Duty, Honor, privilege. All of these things were far more important to the King and Queen than love. But the prince could not help it; he envied the young girl and her family. He would have given up every thing he owned and then some, for just one person to smile at him the way the girl's parents had smiled upon her.

"Eventually the young prince came to one conclusion. There was something wrong with him. Maybe, if he just tried hard enough to be what his parents wanted him to be, they would love him too.   
"So the prince began turning himself into a little King, or in his case, a true tyrant. His He learned the political ideals of the court, and how to pander to them to get his own way. He learned to dislike the ones his father disliked, and the harder he tried to become his father, the more he realized that his father was truly becoming proud of him, something that the prince had never felt from his parents before.

"Eventually, the boy grew up, and it was time for him to go away to school. The king filled his head with cautionary tales and many pieces of advice on how to handle those who wouldn't accept his superiority. He was ready to go, his bags were packed, and his face filled with happiness at his plans.

"He would graduate at the top of his class, well liked and respected. His father had told him that it didn't matter if it was out of true emotion, or just fear induced; all that truly would matter would be that he was respected.

"The prince steeled himself, preparing for that first day. He was filled with fear, but he knew that if anybody saw it, they would misconstrue it as fear, and that would eventually get back to the King. Becoming absolutely miserable after being shunned by one incredibly evil little git, he saw an angel before him.

" 'This little witch knows my feelings', the prince had thought as he listened to her chatter nervously. It wasn't the appearance of this girl that made her an angel. While definitely pretty to some degree, it was her eyes that had drawn his attention. Those eyes were just as scared as his wee, and covering it up just as well."

"What happened to the witch?" Hermione inquired, knowing very well what happened.

"The prince discovered that his angel was just another servant, and his father had pressed upon him that servants were beneath him. The prince was angry that he had liked the servant girl, and took his anger out on her and her servant friends. This however, was the beginning of the end for the nobility of the prince.

"Now, the prince tried very hard to remain regal and noble to those around him, but as he lay in his bed at night, he wondered why, if he was so much better than these servants, were they happier than he was? Why was it that they could love freely while none of the things he had tried had earned him love before?

"Eventually the prince discovered some skeletons in the closet of the king, and decided that nobles were no better than the servants. He began to change, hoping that he could convince the servant girl to look at him as she looked upon her friends, but by that time it was too late. The angel had fallen in love with another. All hope was lost, and the prince discovered the truth of the situation."

"And what truth was that?" she whispered, looking into his eyes.

"The truth is that nobody, neither noble or servant gets to be loved purely on their status in life. It is all in how they act, and what they _do_ with their status in life. Somehow, in his quest to be loved, he had made sure that his quest would never be fulfilled," Draco answered, closing his eyes, and willing himself not to show any emotion.

"Who says the story is over?" Hermione asked as she pulled Draco down into the sweetest kiss he had ever had. And for once, Hermione's mind remained free from guilt.

**A/N WILL WRITE FOR REVIEWS!**


	12. the future and a surprise

A/N Sorry it took so long guys, I've been really involved in a new HP RP board. It's awesome…haha. Anyways, thanks so much for the reviews. Shall we see if we can get to fifty this time?

Draco smiled down at Hermione as he broke the kiss. "And what do you think will happen to the prince?" he asked her. A small smile broke out onto her face.

"I think that the prince will overcome all of his prejudices and find a servant of his own to love him, and that he'll stop distinguishing between Princes and Peasants," she told him with a smile of her own.

"And when the prince and the servant have to return to the war? What then?"

Hermione pulled herself into a seated position next to him and reached for the bottle of pumpkin juice.

"The prince and the servant will fight side by side I expect, and make the Kingdom a safer place for everybody." She didn't want to think of the war right now. She didn't want to think of Ron, of Harry, of any of her friends. They would be so angry with her. In a very un-Hermione like moment, she decided to put off those worries for tomorrow. Now was not the time or place for them.

"Tell me a secret," she asked him. "Tell me something about you that nobody else knows. Something that doesn't pertain to family or the war."

Draco smiled at her, his eyes shining as he thought of what he should tell her.

"Does telling you that I've always loved you count?"

Hermione grinned. "No, you've already told me that remember? I'll tell you what. We'll play a game. You tell me something first, and then I will respond In kind."

Draco pretended to think about it for a moment.

"I like to paint," he told her. "When nobody is around to make fun of me I like to go out in the middle of nowhere with a canvas and paints and just replicate anything that I see."

In truth, Draco was afraid to tell his father this, as painting was not anything that Lucius would see fit for the only Heir of the house of Malfoy. In his flat, in a closet, he actually had many oils done of Hermione, drawn from memory. His favorites of course were those of Hermione studying in the library, oblivious to anyone who might be watching her. It was then that she was at her most open, candid. "Your turn."

"I like to sing," she told him quietly. "I'm horrible at it, but I can't help myself. I think that my roommates at Hogwarts threatened to do me bodily harm more than once if I didn't cast a silencing charm on the bathrooms before I take my showers."

Draco grinned as he tugged at a lock of her hair. "I'll have to remember that for future reference." Hermione slapped playfully at his hands in protest.

"Hush," she said grinning, not wanting to talk of the future. "Let's not talk of the future."

Now it was Draco's turn to frown.

"Why is that Hermione?" he asked quietly, fearing the answer.

"Because I don't," she replied tersely. "I'd rather think of the here and now and not consider the consequences of my actions for once."

That was not the answer that Draco wanted to hear. He had wanted her to say that she wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her. But it would take time. He knew that.

"If that's what you really want," he replied softly, wrapping his arms about her as she lay her head upon his shoulder.

"It is. For now anyways," she replied, refusing to let her thoughts wander down paths that she didn't want to take.

The pair watched the water flowing softly down the bend in silence for several hours before deciding to head back to the cabin.

"Thank you Draco," she told him as he helped her back into the cabin, her exhaustion evident in her face. "For everything."

"It was my pleasure," he said, brushing a light kiss over her lips. "Sleep well Hermione. I love you."

Hermione cast him a smile as she noticed a letter on the table, bearing her name. She grinned and ripped it open only for her smile to dissolve as she read it while walking into her darkened bedroom.

_Hermione,_

_I've returned and will be visiting shortly._

_Ron_

"Where have you been Hermione?" came a quietly angry voice from behind her.

Hermione spun around in shock.

"Ron," she gasped. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough," he growled.

MUWAHAHAHAHA…cough sorry bout that. Couldn't resist the cliffy. Review anyway or so help me I'll leave it at this.  .


	13. Ron, or Draco?

**a/****n I**** am SOOOOOO sorry that it took this long to update. My computer crashed right after my wedding and I cannot begin to detail the drama that distracted me then. Let's just say ****fanfic**** writers couldn't make that crap up. But here I am again, ready to pick up my keyboard and finish this story. I'm so sorry I let you guys down. I solemnly swear that I will finish this story!**

"Long enough for what exactly?" Hermione responded slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. Every beat seemed to scream the same thing. Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!

"You mean besides overhear Malfoy's declarations of love? Long enough to know that you're well enough to leave the cabin all day long. Why is it that you're well enough to go for walks with that smarmy git, but you aren't well enough to leave? Or even write? It couldn't possibly strain your bloody legs if you picked up a damn quill every now and again would it?" Ron exploded, his ears turning a dark shade of red.

Hermione felt tears welling up behind her eyes as she stared at the floor. She knew that she deserved the abuse. There was no way around it. She was a horrible person, no better than a common tart. And she didn't deserve Ron's forgiveness. Not when she had so willingly tucked him into the back of her mind and not allowed herself to think of him for weeks. Her head was beginning to spin and she could feel her legs growing weak. She moved slowly and sat on the bed, never once raising her head to look at Ron. She could not bear to see the pain that she knew would be written on his face.

"Ron," she started hesitantly, searching for the words she needed to make him understand, even if she herself did not understand.

"No!" He yelled, his voice beginning to choke up with emotion. "You don't get to say anything. I've been tormented by the idea of you being stuck here with Malfoy, and grateful beyond measure that you were safe! Every moment I was thinking of you! And this wanker has been putting the moves on you while I have been risking my neck helping Harry and worrying about getting back to you. Why didn't you say anything when he told you loved you Hermione? Why didn't you curse him into dust?"

Ron's voice stopped as he began crying, trying desperately to hide it, but being so overwhelmed with emotion that it just wasn't possible. He had never felt so broken before in his life. Every tear, every sob that tore from his chest was as a nail into Hermione's heart. She could not bear that she had done this to hi, and Ron didn't even know the worst part! He didn't know how she felt about Draco. She didn't even know how she felt about Draco. But she had kissed him passionately. She had given the man hope that there might one day be more between the two of them.

"Because it's not the first time he's said it Ronald," she said softly, looking back down at her hands. "He told me weeks ago. And no, I didn't curse him. He's not a bad person Ron. I think Dumbledore is right, he's changed. I have to believe that. I'm so sorry I didn't write…I should have, and it's been eating at me that I haven't. I'm just, I've been so confused…"

"Confused about what?" he asked, looking at her, fear showing in his eyes. "What is there to be confused about Hermione? You aren't saying that you love him in return are you? Please don't tell me that. What are you confused about?" Ron closed his eyes, bracing himself to hear the worst.

"Yeah Granger," said Draco quietly from the doorway, his blue eyes glinting as he stared at Hermione, wanting desperately to hear what she had to say. "What is it exactly that you are confused about? You didn't seem all that confused when you were kissing me earlier? Matter of fact, it seemed like you knew exactly what you were doing."

"You son of a bitch!" Ron exclaimed as he leapt from the chair, drawing his wand and pushing it against Draco's throat. His voice hitched as his breathing quickened. "I ought to kill you. What gives you the right-"

"Ron, don't!" Hermione screamed, standing and moving slowly to where Ron had Draco pinned against the wall. "Don't you hurt him!"

Ron turned and stared at Hermione, pain written all over his face. "Is it true Hermione? Did you really kiss him?"

Hermione nodded softly, tears sliding down her cheeks and dripping onto the floor. "I'm so sorry Ron," she cried. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Do you love him?" Ron asked, his voice strained. Draco looked at Hermione too, waiting expectantly for an answer and trying to ignore the wand jammed in his throat.

"I don't know," she whispered, crying harder. "I don't' know how I feel anymore. It's just, it's confusing." Her eyes pleaded with Ron to understand, while Draco's lit up. He knew she felt something. She had to. Or if she didn't, she had been well on her way to it. He was almost there. If he could just get rid of the Weasel, he stood a chance.

"Do you love me?" Ron whispered, his face gone white.

"Yes," Hermione nodded.

"But are you in love with me?" Ron had never been more afraid of anything than he was of the answer she would give.

Hermione shook her head softly. "I don't know anymore Ron."

Ron tightened his lips and appeared to be deep in thought, finally releasing Draco and moving to the chair again. Draco gasped, inhaling fresh air deeply and sliding down the frame of the door, slightly dizzy from the loss of air floor. Hermione moved slowly until she stood before Ron, and then kneeled in front of him, holding his hands in her own and waiting for him to say something. Anything. Her mind tortured her with guilt seeing Ron in such obvious pain, and knowing she was the cause of it

Finally Ron lifted his head and looked at her with cold, dead eyes. "We have to leave."

"Do you have to go now Ron? Please, I think we need to sort this thing out before you go-"

"I think you misunderstand me Hermione," Ron said coolly. "We have to leave. You and I. I'm not leaving you here with him. You're well enough to walk for short periods now. If you ever want to repair the damage that you have done, you need to leave with me."

"Hermione no!" Draco objected. "You aren't ready to leave yet! And, and I don't want you to leave. Please. Just give me a chance…"

Hermione cried softly, trying to decide what she would do. What was she going to do? She wasn't sure she was well enough to leave yet, but she knew that if she stayed, it was over between her and Ron.

**BTW, I am such a review whore. Please review!!**


	14. The Duel

**A/N Thank you for the reviews guys. Kind of shocked at the violence people are willing to do to poor Ronniekins…lol. You're a bloodthirsty crowd aren't you?**

Hermione stared at the floor, struggling to make a choice. Did it have to be so final? Obviously the choice should have been easy. She had known Ron to be a good man for many years now. She had given him her heart, they had made promises for the future, they had fought side by side, and it should have been easy to apologize to Draco, pack her things and leave with him. The problem was that it wasn't. It wasn't easy at all. There was something there with Draco. She wasn't able to deny it to him, nor to Ron, and least of all to herself. She wasn't sure entirely what it was that was between them, but she wasn't sure she was ready to give that up either.

She wasn't entirely sure if she was ready health wise to leave yet either. Her legs were still unsteady, and feeble. She was afraid to go back to the fight yet, even if she would deny it to everyone. Practical as she was, she knew that she would only hinder Harry if he had to constantly worry about her. At least here, she was safe. The Deatheaters didn't know her location, and she stood a chance at a good recovery before she was thrust back into the fray again.

She stared at the floor, ignoring the eyes of both Ron and Draco boring into her, demanding that she make a choice right then and there. It was too much pressure. She didn't want to make the choice at all. She wanted to rewind the clock and never have this confrontation in the first place. Being Hermione, she looked at every angle she could imagine in an attempt to make the right choice when her head began to swim. Struggling to her feet, she looked first at Draco, and then at Ron.

"I," she began hesitantly, her voice quavering. She was so tired. "I…." Her voice cut off when the strain of the day, both emotional and physical took its toll and she surrendered to the darkness.

Ron and Draco both lunged forward in an attempt to catch her before she hit the floor. Ron would have caught her, but Draco tried to force him out of the way, sending Ron sprawling and Hermione into Draco's waiting arms. He lifted her carefully and laid her on her bed, smoothing her chestnut hair with his palms, his icy blue eyes worriedly watching her. "You need to quit pushing yourself so far Love. I don't want you to go, but if you do, I'll love you just the same"

Ron picked himself up off the floor as Draco arranged Hermione on the bed, and felt himself fill with rage. His breathing hitched and began to feel as if there was a swarm of angry bees buzzing around in his head, each crying out for Ron to do serious bodily harm to the man, this usurper. He reached a shaky hand into his robes, and quietly removed his wand, aiming it shakily at Draco.

"You don't love her like I love her Malfoy," Ron sneered. "I'm not even sure that you're capable of love. We both know that you would just use her like you do everyone else. And then when you've finished with her, you'd leave her broken and alone. And I won't let you do that to her." He motioned at the door with his wand. Even as angry as he was with her, Ron had no desire to hurt her while he cursed Draco until the man could no longer move.

"You don't know what you're talking about Weasley," sneered Draco as he willingly walked in front of Ron out of the cabin, surprised the weasel had enough sense of mind to move so that Hermione would not be inadvertently injured. "I've loved that woman for years. I wasted enough time running from it, but not anymore. And how much of a chance do you think you'll stand with her now that I'm in the picture? It hardly took any time at all to get her to kiss me. How long do you think it'll be before she climbs into my bed?"

"You shut your filthy mouth Malfoy!" Ron screamed, his face turning an ugly shade of red as he filled with fury. "_Relashio_" Hot sparks shot out of Ron's wand, the subsequent blast knocking Draco to the ground several feet from where he had originally stood. "Hermione would never stoop so low!"

"What's the matter Weasel King?" Draco sneered, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth and smirking at Ron as he struggled to his feet, withdrawing his own wand. "Is the truth too much for you? Or is this anger because you've never had the pleasure of sharing a bed with her? Rest assured, the way she kissed me, the way she so eagerly pressed her body to mine, it's only a matter of time until she desires more. She's hardly as pure as you think she is. A woman with that much passion would be lost on an impotent little tosser like you. What Hermione needs, is a real man. Not a little boy trying to keep up." Draco was thoroughly enjoying pounding the nails into Ron. It had been far too long since he had been able to unleash that part of himself. It was bloody difficult being so nice all the time, and Ron was a well deserved target of his pent up frustration.

"I said to shot your gob ferret boy!" Ron cried, unable to listen to Draco talk about Hermione that way. His mind was filling with images of Hermione kissing Draco, caressing him, making love to him. He had tried many times to take their relationship to the next level, but had always failed. Hermione wasn't ready and he wasn't going to push her. And he wasn't going to let some piece of scum like Malfoy impugn her in such a way. He lashed out with his wand again, this time using the jelly-legs jinx.

Draco easily deflected Ron's curse with a protego now that his own wand was drawn and ready. "Is that bothering you Weasley? Knowing that I'm going to make love to her? That it will be me biting her neck, and kissing her breasts, and wrapping her legs around my waist? That I'll be the one hearing her moan while she digs her nails into my back? Face it Weasley. If she loved you, she never would have kissed me. She hasn't mentioned your name in weeks. It's me she loves, even if she's not ready to admit it to you."

Ron choked up, unable to take it anymore. His mind overrun with the vivid picture that Draco had painted for him, he did something he had promised Hermione he would never do. He used a bit of dark magic.

"_Sectumsempra"_he screamed, watching with relish as a deep wound opened up across Draco's chest, blood pouring as his face turned white and he fell to the ground. It was very out of character for him to enjoy another's pain so much, but he couldn't help it. He was only human. Unable to take the torture of listening to Draco anymore, and terrified that he was speaking the truth, Ron left, giving up. Draco won. Draco always won. And Ron, Ron never won anything. He had been a fool for thinking that Hermione could love somebody like him.


	15. The Death of the Golden Trio

Draco gritted his teeth against the pain, the wounds stinging like fire. The pain didn't matter though. Ron was gone. He had given up, maddened by Draco's taunts. The fool didn't deserve Hermione if that was all it took to make him tuck tail and run. As much as he'd love to continue to wallow in his joy, he had a far bigger problem to consider. He was bleeding out on the ground outside the cabin, unable to move. Ron's spell had had its desired effect and if Draco didn't get help soon, he wouldn't survive to gloat much longer.

The seconds ticked by and Draco began to lose hope as the blood continued to flow. He had trouble keeping his thoughts clear, and it was difficult to keep his eyes open. Perhaps it would be best just to rest. Just to sleep a little bit. In the back of his mind, he knew that he was going into shock, and that to give in to his desire to sleep would mean the end of him, but it was so hard to fight. Such a pity he finally managed to catch Hermione's attention only to have it end like this.

_Hermione._

The thought was enough to shake him. He wasn't giving up. Not now. Not when everything he desired was within reach. There was no way he was going to let Ron win. Summoning all of his strength, he yelled as loud as he could, praying Hermione, or anybody really, would hear him. In his state however, the loudest he could yell was barely above normal speaking range for anybody else. He continued to yell, holding his palms over his stomach, trying desperately to staunch the bleeding as much as possible.

Hermione opened her eyes to an empty room. For a moment she hoped to herself that the sight of Ron had been a dream. Highly unlikely, but a girl could wish. Swinging her legs around her, she put her feet gingerly on the floor, testing them before shifting her weight onto them. They felt rather weak, but good enough to walk on if she didn't rush herself.

"Draco? Ron?" she called, moving out of the room and finding herself disturbed at the lack of response. Finding no sign of them in the rest of the cabin, she moved to the front door when she finally heard him.

"Help," Draco called weakly, white as a ghost, a thin sheath of sweat covering his face. The ground around him was soaked red with blood. Horrified, Hermione cried out and stumbled towards him, tears beginning to fall from her eyes.

"Draco!" she cried, "What happened? Who did this to you?"

Draco didn't respond, only closed his eyes, the strain of holding out for help taking its toll. Hermione reached for her wand, not finding it. It was on the table in her room, but if she went back for it, Draco might not survive. She began looking around his body desperately, feeling a small moment of relief when she found what she sought. His wand.

"_Vulnera Sanetur_" she sobbed, running the tip of his wand over the wound. The flow of blood slowed considerably, but the cut was deep. Repeating the incantation, she watched the flesh beginning to mend itself, tears spilling off her face and onto his body. A third time sealed the wound entirely, but there would be a scar. She knew there was a potion that could help with that but for the life of her she couldn't remember what it was, and cosmetic appearance was the least of her worries. While the wound was closed, Draco had still lost a great deal of blood and would require care.

A loud crack echoed through the air, and Hermione looked up to find Harry standing there.

"Oh my god," he said, his face white. "He really did it". Ron had returned in such a fury that it took several minutes to calm him down enough to get anything out of him. Ron had raged so that it had taken several more minutes to understand what had happened. Horrified, he realized that Ron could very well have murdered Draco and left Hermione alone and defenseless. Angering Ron further, he apparated on the spot, hoping he could get to Draco in time to save him and prevent Ron from becoming a murderer. Angry as he may have been at that moment, he never would have forgiven himself, especially if harm came to Hermione because of it, and Hermione was his main concern regardless.

"I've already sealed the wound," Hermione whispered. "But he's lost a great deal of blood. I can't get him in the cabin by myself Harry."

Harry nodded and picked the unconscious man up and carried him into the cabin, Hermione following behind.

"Lay him on the bed here", she instructed, directing him to Draco's room. "I'll fetch my wand".

Harry stared at Draco's body, noting the angry red mark across his chest where Ron's curse had split him open. He was sick with disgust for Ron and pity for Draco. The feeling didn't sit well with him at all. Most of all he felt himself fill with anger with Hermione. How could she have put them all in this position? She of all people knew how emotional Ron could be, and to break his heart, _with Draco of all people,_ was horrifying. He wanted to rage at her, but watching her tear streaked face as she returned with her wand, stopped the words short.

"_Aguamenti_," she whispered, water flowing from the tip of her wand into a wash basin. Her shoulders were shaking, but neither she nor Harry knew if it was from her sobbing, or from the trembling that had overtaken her body. Soaking a rag with the water, she began to wash the blood from Draco's body.

"Hermione" Harry began, not sure what to say, how to ask.

"It's my fault Harry," she interrupted, her voice thick with tears. "This is my fault."

"What happened? When Ron got back, he was screaming about you betraying him and that the two of you were over. It took a while for him to tell me he had cursed Draco, and I came straightaway."

Hermione stifled a sob and nodded her head, keeping her eyes focused on Draco's body as the guilt threatened to drown her.

"He's right. I did. He demanded I leave, but I'm not well enough. I tried to tell him I wasn't well enough! He just kept screaming and demanding an answer, but I couldn't' give him one. Why couldn't I just give him one Harry?" She dropped the rag and buried her face in her hands, sobs racking her frame now. "This is my fault. All of it"

"No, it's not," Draco whispered weakly from the bed, his eyes now open and glazed with pain. "You did nothing wrong. Weasel-bee let his jealousy get the better of him. I'll give him credit. I didn't know he had this in him."

"I did," Harry said quietly. When Ron had told him what he did, he didn't doubt him at all. Ron was capable of almost anything when he was that angry. While Ron could be kind, and gentle, funny and genuinely caring, he also had a darker side filled with insecurity, jealousy and anger. Deep in Harry's heart, he knew that Ron had crossed a line. This wasn't a pouting fit of jealousy, this was practically attempted murder. Harry would never be able to look at Ron quite the same way, and that same knowledge told him that Hermione wouldn't be able to either.

There was no doubt in anybody's mind at that point. Whatever holds Ron had had on Hermione, whatever there had been between the two of them was gone with a single curse. While Ron's intent may have been to kill Draco, what he had killed instead was the bond he had shared with the woman he loved.

While Harry and Hermione mourned the death of the Golden Trio, knowing things would never be the same between the three of them, Draco rejoiced. Now there was nothing stopping him from realizing all of his dreams.


End file.
